


Never Been Kissed

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, The 90's, thirsty Oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Oswald Cobblepot just got home from his trip to Europe and is eager to reunite with Jim, his best friend. However, while he was gone, Jim seems to have made new friends and the teen doesn't know how to deal with it. Also, Jim got super hot over the summer and Oswald just wants to touch his biceps. [or the 90's teen gobblepot AU no one asked for]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my last entry for the Gobblepot Summer 2017. Many thanks to Nekomata58919 for the beta and suggesting the title!
> 
> This story is a very late birthday present for Rose, who suggested the "grew up as best friends but you got hot over the summer can i touch ur biceps AU". Hope you like it!

“Alright, mother, you can let go of me now,” Oswald murmured into Gertrud’s shoulder, even though he was also holding onto her tightly. “People are staring.”

 

“So what? Let them stare,” Mrs. Kapelput said, but she loosened her hold, caressing Oswald’s rosy cheek in the middle of the airport. “I’ve missed you so much!”

 

“Me too,” Oswald admitted quietly and grinned at his mother.

 

“Come, you can tell me everything on our way home,” Gertrud said, and took her son’s backpack, Oswald barely carrying his enormous luggage, heavy with presents.

 

* * *

 

Oswald felt as if he’d been talking for hours, his throat was absolutely parched. He had so many things to share, though. He’d been gone for almost two months and, of course, his mom wanted to know everything. They managed to talk about once a week; Aunt Hilda was very nice and let Oswald call home, even though the phone bill must have been huge, calling from Germany to the US.

 

The holiday had been amazing, of course, but Oswald was glad to be back home. He smiled as he watched the city pass by, while Britney was singing her newest hit in the radio, Baby One More Time. He noticed how so many things seemed to be changed, yet everything was the same, producing those little bubbles of warmth in his chest. His stare lingered on the neighbouring house when they got home.

 

A bit later, Gertrud and Oswald had a late lunch, Oswald stuffing his face until he couldn’t breathe. Okay, maybe he missed his mother’s cooking a lot more than he expected. It was also finally his turn to ask for news.

 

“So, what happened here while I was gone?”

 

Getrud clapped once, the question seemed to electrify her. “Oh, well, not so many things, nothing as wonderful as your holiday. You know Hannah got married.”

 

“Oh really? I thought the wedding was supposed to be in September?”

 

Gertrud smoothed a rebel curl behind her ear, smiling mysteriously. “Well, she… eloped. With Peter. You know, from the bakery.”

 

Oswald stopped rummaging through his bag, looking at his mother with wide eyes. “Oh my god, really?!”

 

“Their parents are very upset,” Gertrude sighed. She was good friends with Hannah’s mother, so she must have heard her complain a lot.

 

“How’s Ivy?” Oswald asked, trying to distract his mother. Ivy was an eight year old girl, living down the street. Oswald helped her with school a lot of times and sometimes she even came over when her parents were busy. She was practically Oswald’s little sister.

 

“Oh, she’s always asking about you. Poor darling, I think she’s very bored. I lent her some of your old fairytale books, but she’s read them all. The last time I saw her, she was gardening. She insisted that I tell you to visit her when you get home.”

 

“I will, I wanted to give her this,” Oswald held up a purple bear plushie he picked up in Berlin. “But first, here are your gifts, mom.”

 

“Ah,  _ Liebchen _ , you didn’t have to,” his mother said, eyes glistening.

 

Oswald was so happy by his mother’s gasps of surprises as she opened her presents. They were just knick-knacks from the places Oswald visited. Gertrud chided him for spending money on her instead of having fun, but Oswald always loved spoiling her, knowing that she’d had enough hardships in life. His mom deserved the best.

 

Gertrud kissed Oswald’s cheek with tears in her eyes, then wiped the rouge stains off Oswald’s cheek. “Go, I know you’ve been itching to see Jim since we got home.”

 

Oswald blushed; he wasn’t aware that his mother noticed his furtive glances at the Gordon house. Besides his mom, Oswald had missed Jim, his best friend, the most. It was the first summer they hadn’t spent together in… well, eleven years or so since they’ve know each other, and Oswald was dying to see him.

 

Taking the carefully compiled gifts he picked for Jim, Oswald turned back before exiting the house. “I won’t be long. Maybe Jim can come over if it’s alright?”

 

Gertrude nodded eagerly. “Of course, you know he’s always welcome.”

 

Oswald tried not to look too eager as he made the short way to the Gordons’ house. He had already practised what he would say when Jim would open the door and he could barely keep his grin at bay.

 

However, when the door was opened, Oswald’s smile faltered. “Oh, hello Ms. Gordon.”

 

“Oswald! You’re back!” Ms. Gordon reached out and ruffled Oswald’s hair, then caressed his face. “You look so well.”

 

“Thank you,” Oswald said bashfully, his cheeks flushing. “How are you doing?”

 

Ms. Gordon shrugged and smiled, but her eyes remained watery. Jim resembled her so much, but his eyes would still light up when he smiled at Oswald. Her husband’s untimely death had weighed too heavily on Ms. Gordon, and sometimes it looked like she would never be happy.

 

“I’m alright, just started preparing dinner,” she replied, thumb pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

 

Oswald nodded. “Is Jim at home?”

 

“Ah, no, sweetie, he had to go and help Harvey with his car. But he was really looking forward to seeing you. He’ll be excited to hear that you got back, he was quite bored this summer.”

 

Oswald knew he shouldn’t, but he was secretly happy that Jim missed him. At the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was disappointed that Jim wasn’t at home. He went to help Harvey… hmm, Oswald wondered if it was that loud guy who graduated a couple of years ago. Oswald didn’t know Jim was friends with Harvey, but of course he was always so kind, helping everyone.

 

“Will you, uh, tell Jim to come over when he has time?” Oswald asked.

 

“Of course, you know he will run over when he hears the news,” Ms. Gordon patted his cheek. “It’s good to have you back.”

 

“Thank you. Oh, this is for you. Chocolate filled with cherry liqueur,” Oswald said, handing Ms. Gordon a pink box.

 

“That’s very sweet of you. I’ll save this for a special day.”

 

“Bye,” Oswald said and slouched away. He knew he was unreasonably disappointed, but he couldn’t help it, dropping Jim’s gifts on the table in the living room with a thud.

 

“Jim’s not at home?” Gertrud asked from behind the magazine she was reading.

 

“No, but he might come over later.”

 

“Maybe you should take a nap, you must be jet lagged. You were probably in bed by this time at your aunt’s.”

 

Oswald could feel his head getting heavier every moment. “Yeah, maybe. But not more than an hour, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

 

He barely put his head on the pillow, Oswald fell asleep easily. He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he woke up to a nagging feeling, as if someone told him to wake up. A few moments later, Oswald thought he heard voices. He slowly walked to the living room, rubbing his eyes.

 

“I thought I heard you talking to someone, mom,” he murmured sleepily, not noticing the figure standing in the hallway.

 

“Oswald!”

 

He would have recognised that voice anywhere. Oswald’s heart skipped a beat and he was suddenly lifted by Jim, his strong arms tightly embracing Oswald.

 

“Jim!” Oswald yelped and his hands grabbed onto Jim’s biceps, his eyes bulging at the hard muscles he felt under Jim’s shirt. What the… when did Jim’s biceps become so muscular? “Put me down, you insufferable…”

 

“Insufferable what?” Jim laughed harder, patting Oswald’s back as he set him down.

 

“Monster,” Oswald said, laughing, his chest full of the joy reflected in Jim’s big blue eyes.

 

“Mom told me you came over, sorry I missed you,” Jim said, placing his hand on Oswald’s bony shoulder.

 

“That’s alright,” Oswald put his arm around Jim, blushing, because even though the gesture would seem friendly to everyone, he had selfish reasons behind it. 

 

How could he have not done it when Jim was now grinning at him. “I heard you brought me some presents.”

 

Oswald shook his head. “Should have known that was all you were after.”

 

* * *

 

Many hours later, as Oswald was lying in his bed wide awake, he thought about his meeting with Jim, how easy it was to slip back into the comfortable friendship with him, how the hours just flew by in his company.

 

They talked about everything and finally, Oswald plucked up enough courage to ask about Jim becoming more muscular.

 

“I was bored, so I went to the gym every day,” he said with an embarrassed laughter. “Besides, if I really want to attend the police academy, the training will come in handy.”

 

Oswald nodded, trying not to stare at the bulging muscles, but he failed countless times during the evening. He wanted to touch, to feel that hardness under his fingers again, but it was too much. Jim would have let him, no doubt, but Oswald wasn’t sure he could control his reactions, and then would Jim figure it out.

 

Oswald couldn’t let that happen. Jim was the nicest person he’d ever known, and even though he wouldn’t be upset or mock Oswald for his feelings, Oswald couldn’t let Jim find out. What if things became awkward? What if every time Jim looked at him he would remember Oswald’s crush? What if he’d completely refuse to touch Oswald?

 

Too many risks. Oswald wasn’t a gambler and he would never ever jeopardise Jim’s friendship. He turned towards the wall and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Besides, he didn’t think Jim was into boys… even though he only dated one girl, Becky, for a couple of months, but then her family moved away. Jim confessed to Oswald later that he was relieved that the relationship didn’t go on.

 

This was too much and Oswald was too tired to deal with his thoughts. However, sleep only came an hour later.

  
  


The next morning, Oswald had to help his mom at the theatre she worked at. He liked spending time there, but he really just wanted to stay in bed and play on his Game Boy. No such luck, but at least his afternoon was free. Since Jim had promised to finish helping with Harvey’s car, Oswald thought he'd visit Ivy.

 

He took the bear beanie baby and the pack of hair accessories he got for the girl, and went to their house.

 

“Ozzie!” Ivy launched herself towards Oswald, hugging him tightly. “You’re finally home!”

 

Ivy was so excited, that she was talking non-stop, taking Oswald’s hand and dragging him to her room first, showing him her newest toys and books. She also placed the bear from Oswald on the centre of her bed and tried on a headband with flowers she got from Oswald.

 

“Let’s go outside, I want to show you my garden!”

 

Ivy was hurrying her friend, despite her mother chiding her.

 

“It’s okay, Ms. Pepper,” Oswald laughed, patting Ivy’s head. “I know she’s just very eager.”

 

Ivy flashed him a big smile, then took him to her flower garden, telling Oswald about her plants and even their medical properties. 

 

“See this orange flower? The cream made out of it can cure wounds. And this blue one is good for pains…”

 

Ivy’s explanation was suddenly interrupted by loud, heavy music. It sounded like Nirvana, blaring obnoxiously in the quiet street, and Oswald craned his neck, trying to see the source of the noise. He noticed a black Chevrolet Camaro that stopped on the other side of the street. Two people got out and opened the hood, checking the engine. Oswald froze when he recognised them.

 

“Oswald, isn’t that your friend?” Ivy asked, looking at the boys with interest.

 

“Yeah, it’s Jim,” Oswald murmured, watching as a blond lock fell on Jim’s forehead as he leaned down to check the engine.

 

The other guy had to be Harvey: messy hair and goatee, baggy jeans and a black t-shirt with the F. B. I (Female Body Inspector) inscription on it.

 

“Don’t you want to say hi to them?” Ivy asked, looking expectantly at Oswald.

 

“No, they seem busy. Ivy, what are you doing?” Oswald panicked as he noticed Ivy running to the fence, clearly ignoring Oswald’s reply.

 

“No, Ivy,” Oswald tried, but she had already climbed up on the fence.

 

“Jim! Here, Jim!”

 

Oh god. Oswald was flustered by the time he got there, but Jim was already approaching.

 

“Hey, Ivy. Oswald.” Jim smiled at them, smoothing his hair back.

 

“Do you like my headband? Oswald got it for me,” Ivy bragged, flipping her hair.

 

“Very nice. He has good taste,” Jim said, flashing a smile to Oswald.

 

“Did he bring you anything?” Ivy asked with the unabashed curiosity of children.

 

Jim laughed. “Yes, but nothing as pretty as yours.”

 

Oswald and Ivy exclaimed at the same time, for various reasons.

 

“Don’t believe him!” Oswald yelped, trying to hit Jim’s arm, who just dodged it laughing.

 

“Wait here!” Ivy said before running into the house.

 

Oswald looked after her, then smiled apologetically at Jim. “Sorry about that.”

 

“It’s fine, don’t worry. She’s funny,” Jim said, leaning against the fence.

 

“Playing with little girls now, Cobblepot?”

 

Oswald scowled at Harvey who was by his car, laughing his ass off.

 

“It’s called caring about people, but I’m sure you’ve never heard about that,” Oswald retorted, Jim snickering at his response.

 

Harvey just got into his car and turned the music even louder. That was when Ivy returned, hiding something in her hand.

 

“Here, you can have this one,” she said, giving Jim a hair clip with a purple flower.

 

“Thank you,” Jim said very seriously, putting the clip on the neck of his t-shirt. “Sadly, my hair's not long enough.”

 

“That’s okay, it looks nice,” Ivy smiled at Jim, then at Oswald who was ready to dig his own grave.

 

“What do you think, Oswald, do I look pretty?” Jim asked cheekily.

 

Ivy looked expectantly at Oswald, who started babbling. “Uh, yes, I guess.”   
  


Jim laughed. “Alright, I gotta go. See you around.”

 

Ivy and Oswald watched Jim get in the car and Harvey drive away, the tires squeaking. 

 

“Jim’s cute,” Ivy declared, then went back to her garden.

 

_ Yes, he is _ , Oswald thought to himself, sighing.

 

* * *

 

Oswald had tried to get back to Gotham’s time zone in the past two days, but it just didn’t work out. Either he woke up at five in the morning or he couldn’t fall asleep until way past his usual time. This night too proved to be one where he didn’t get enough sleep. He forced himself to stay in bed with his eyes closed, but he just became more irritated with each second. Finally, he decided to get out of bed and open his window wide open, to let fresh air in.

 

On sleepless nights, Oswald would stare at the night sky. If he was lucky, like tonight, he could even see the stars and he’d try to find as many constellations as possible. He sighed as he leaned against the window frame, wishing he could fall asleep as easily as on his holidays, when after a long day of sightseeing and visiting relatives he’d just crash at ten already.

 

“Can’t sleep either?” a voice whispered in the dead of night.

 

“No,” Oswald smiled tiredly at Jim who also opened his window, sitting on the ledge. “Still jetlagged. You?”

 

“I don’t know, I’m just too wide awake. Do you want to go to the bridge?”

 

Oswald furrowed his brows. “Now? At two?”

 

“Yeah, why not?

 

Oswald considered things; his mother was a heavy sleeper, so he could sneak out easily. “Alright, meet you outside.”

 

He quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt, then put on socks and sneakers. Avoiding the squeaky part of the floor, Oswald slipped the keys into his pocket and got out, meeting Jim in front of the house.

 

“Thought we could get there sooner on my bike,” Jim said with a grin.

 

Oswald stared at him. “But I don’t have a bike.”

 

“So? We’ll share mine. You can just sit on the handlebar,” Jim patted it as if it were the most comfortable seat ever.

 

Oswald shuffled on his feet. He guessed it would take them less time. “Alright.”

 

Jim helped him on the handlebar, lifting Oswald easily. “All right?” Jim whispered in his ear, squeezing Oswald’s hip gently.

 

“Yes, we can go.”

 

Oswald gripped the handlebar as Jim started pedaling, eyes widening as they approached a slope. “Oh gosh, I don’t think this was a good idea.”

 

“I’m here, don’t worry,” Jim said, putting his hand on Oswald’s hip, the warmth seeping through his shirt.

 

Jim didn’t have to pedal as the bike flew down the hill, Oswald yelping and Jim laughing at him. “Shh, you don’t want to wake up the entire city!”

 

“I’m sorry that you’re such an erratic bike rider!” Oswald exclaimed, grinning as he looked back at Jim.

 

“Erratic?” Jim pretended to be offended, taking his hand from Oswald’s hip. “You can fall down, I don’t care.”

 

“Don’t you dare!” Oswald laughed, even though they were on a straight road now. He grabbed Jim’s hand from the handlebar, tugging it towards himself.

 

“We’re almost there,” Jim said, but he put his hand on Oswald’s thigh, rubbing it as they rode under the old oak trees.

 

Oswald blushed, even his ears flushed red at the contact. Good thing they stopped, otherwise he was sure he would suddenly combust.

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jim asked cheekily as he helped Oswald off.

 

“I guess not, but I still prefer coming on my own feet, thank you very much.”

 

“Liar.” Jim lightly pushed Oswald, then ran forward, Oswald following him. Their footsteps thudded on the old, wooden bridge, and they stopped in the middle and sat down on their usual spot.

 

There wasn't a lot of light, just enough to make out shapes. Everything had a dark grey tint, except for the river, which was silver where it reflected the light in the middle.

 

Oswald looked at their dangling feet above the small river, remembering how they would sometimes try to touch the surface of the water. It used to be a popular spot twenty years before, but as the place became decrepit people forgot about it. Lucky for Jim and Oswald, as they appreciated the tranquillity of the place. Besides, it was a good hideaway when they didn't want to talk to anyone.

 

There were a lot of such occurrences after Jim’s dad passed away. He would just disappear and Ms. Gordon would come over with tears in her eyes. While Gertrud made Ms. Gordon tea, Oswald went to look for Jim. Ninety-nine percent of the time he was at the bridge.

 

Oswald would just sit down beside Jim, not saying a word, but letting Jim know that he was there. Sometimes he would offer Jim a piece of chocolate or chewing gum. Sometimes Jim would just spill what bothered him, other times he’d talk about something else to distract himself. There were also times when Jim didn't say a word, staring ahead unblinking. However, in the end, he would always place his head on Oswald's shoulder, and they would sit like that until Jim felt ready to go back to his anxious mother.

 

Of course the place also held good memories for them, lazy afternoons and the more exciting late summer nights when they would sneak out and talk about everything.

 

In the present, Jim lay down on the bridge with his hands behind his head, his eyes searching the night sky. Oswald always admired that Jim looked comfortable in his own skin; in that moment too he seemed very relaxed, no worries furrowing his brow.

 

“Harvey invited us to the pool tomorrow,” Jim announced, glancing at Oswald.

 

“Us? I think he only meant you.” Oswald lay down on his side, head propped up in his hand.

 

“Well, everyone knows we come in a package deal,” Jim said, smiling at Oswald.

 

“We…we don’t have to,” Oswald said quietly, blushing. “You can hang out with your friends without me, you know?”

 

“I know, but I’d like to have you there. Harvey’s a cool dude and he said some of his friends would be joining us there.” Seeing Oswald’s unconvinced expression, Jim pressed on. “We don’t have to hang out with them if they’re nasty, okay?”

 

Oswald couldn’t say no when Jim was looking at him like that with his big blue eyes. “Okay, guess I’m down with that.”

 

“Awesome!” Jim grinned and Oswald mirrored him, heart beating faster when he saw Jim’s eyes crinkling with happiness. “It will be fun.”

 

“Hope so,” Oswald muttered, sitting up properly. 

 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet the other people, but Oswald wanted to spend as much of the remaining holiday as possible with Jim. If that involved putting up with some boring people for a few hours, then so be it. Worst case scenario, he’d be sitting in a corner, ogling a half-naked Jim. Well, he had nothing to lose, on the contrary…

 

“Ready to go home?” Jim asked, touching Oswald’s shoulder briefly.

 

He blushed at being caught daydreaming about his best friend in shorts. Oswald nodded hastily. “Yeah, let’s bounce.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the late update! Started uni again and I thought it'd be easier since it's my semester abroad... I've never been so wrong in my whole life. 
> 
> HUGE shotout to Nekomata58919 for not only betaing this story, but also helping me with all things 90's and the mixtape!!! You can find the whole soundtrack for the fic [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/user/21x2oll3jwkufsrk2x6vy3kdq/playlist/7cVrvbNKrsqa9IIvq0GJCU). Infinite thanks also go to skeleton_twins who listened to me whine about this fic for weeks. Thanks for putting up with me! <3 Also thanks to my friend Alex who helped me out with the German. :)

Oswald regretted agreeing to going to the pool with Jim and his shiny new friends. At least Ms. Gordon let Jim borrow her car, so they didn’t have to take the bus to the other end of the city, or even worse, hitch a ride with Harvey. Oswald tossed his bag in the backseat before he sat in the front beside Jim who was trying to find a decent song on the radio. He smiled at Oswald as he finally settled for  _ Wannabe  _ by the Spice Girls.

 

“Oh god, not this song again” Oswald growled, Jim laughing at his grumpiness.

 

“What, it’s fun!” 

 

Oswald was pouting, but he noticed Jim stealing glances at him while driving.

 

“Cheer up,” Jim tried again, then started in a truly atrocious rendering of the song. “ _ If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends, Make it last forever, friendship never ends _ .”

 

There was no way Oswald wouldn’t burst out laughing at Jim’s ridiculous high-pitched voice, as he was obviously being silly on purpose. And though Oswald didn’t end up singing, he hummed along, which seemed to please Jim.

 

However, as soon as they parked, Oswald’s worries seemed to have come back. He could already hear Harvey’s booming voice, joking with some other dudes Oswald had seen around before.

 

“Hey, Jimbo! Sup, buddy?”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes. He immediately regretted coming.

 

“Everything’s cool. Can’t wait to make a splash,” Jim said and put on his sunglasses. “Right, Oswald?”

 

“Sure.” Oswald just nodded as he grabbed his backpack and followed Jim, concerned about Harvey and his gang. 

 

Maybe he shouldn’t have worried about that, though, as it seemed the guys looked right through him, ignoring and forgetting about Oswald. He tried not to lose Jim from sight, though. After all, he was the only one Oswald knew here, even though it looked like they wouldn’t spend too much time together. Good thing Oswald thought about bringing a book.

 

When they made it to the main pool where ‒ Oswald assumed ‒ the cool people hung out, there were only a few pool lounge chairs left and the guys were trying to divide them.

 

“It’s okay, Oswald and I can share one,” Jim said, solving the problem. 

 

Harvey shrugged; he seemed happy since he managed to snatch a chair by a pretty blonde girl.

 

“You’re okay with it, right?” Jim asked quietly and Oswald nodded. Of course, he was. As much as he tried to lie to himself about it, he craved Jim’s closeness. 

 

Oswald was pretending to look for something in his bag while Jim and his friends were taking off their shirts and getting ready for a swim.

 

“Hey, Os, can you help me with the sunscreen?”

 

When he turned around, Oswald fought very hard not to blush at the sight of Jim only in his swimming short, struggling to put sunscreen on his broad shoulders.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Oswald swallowed as he took the bottle from Jim and squirted sunscreen on his back, focusing on the smooth skin and the birthmarks he saw there, noticing how if he connected them they would form a triangle.

 

_ Focus _ , Oswald told himself, as he massaged meticulously the sunscreen with circular movements, dying a bit on the inside at how soft Jim’s skin was. He made sure that every inch was rubbed with the lotion.

 

“Alright, I think it’s done,” Oswald said and Jim turned back with a blinding smile.

 

“Thank you. Want me to put some on your back as well?”

 

Oswald paled. “No, n-no, I’m fine. I don’t think I’ll go into the water, not yet at least. So I’ll just stay in my t-shirt.”

 

“Alright,” Jim smiled.

 

However, he opened the bottle’s cap, squirting a tiny bit on his index finger and smearing it on the tip of Oswald’s nose. “Don’t forget to put some on your face, though. We don’t want the incident from the summer of ‘97 to be repeated.”

 

“Certainly not,” Oswald laughed awkwardly, blaming the sun for the flush of his skin as he spread the sunscreen on his cheeks. 

 

God, Jim was going to break his heart with a single smile. Oswald took Jim’s discarded sunglasses and put them on before he lay on the lounge chair, enjoying the pleasant breeze. Oswald was probably biased, but his friend was the most handsome, his hair gold in the sunlight and smile dazzling even from afar.

 

One of Harvey’s friends brought a boombox, starting the party with Ricky Martin’s _ Livin’ La Vida Loca _ .

 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Harvey yelled, dancing so embarrassingly that it made Oswald cringe.

 

He took the book he brought from his bag, intent on ignoring their shenanigans. It actually worked for a while, Oswald not bothered by the shouts or loud laughter, until Harvey wolf whistled. 

 

When Oswald looked up, he saw that a group of girls just made their way to the pool, testing the water with their toes.

 

“Ladies, so glad you could made it,” Harvey said with what he no doubt thought was a charming smile.

 

“Hey, Harv.”

 

Oswald would have gone back to his reading, had he not noticed that Jim swam to two of the girls who sat on the edge of the pool. It was like watching a sea god emerge from the water, droplets glistening on Jim’s shoulder as he brushed back his hair and smiled at the two lucky girls. Even though he didn’t want to, Oswald felt jealous. What could Jim be talking to them about? He had to be flirting, judging by the way the girls giggled and seized him up.

 

In the end, Oswald forced himself to resume his reading, even while Crazy Town’s  _ Butterfly  _ was blaring and the guys were taking turns jumping into the pool, competing to see who could make the biggest splash. Of course, Harvey’s butt-first jump won and Oswald was glad that he was the farthest away from the pool.

 

After a while, the boys decided that they had enough silliness in the water, so they got out. Oswald rolled his eyes when he noticed that some of them were slapping each other’s ass, laughing as if they committed the funniest prank ever.

 

“You didn’t go into the water, Cobblepot?”

 

“Didn’t want one of you gorillas to jump on me,” Oswald replied without even looking up at Harvey.

 

The guy still managed to piss him off by shaking his hair right there, a few droplets lending on Oswald. Whether it was intentional or not, Oswald could not say.

 

“Oh, who’s your next victim?”

 

“What?”

 

Jim laughed as he grabbed his towel, drying his arms. “You had this murderous look on your face, I could see it even through the glasses. Which are mine, by the way. You little thief.”

 

Oswald stuck his tongue out at Jim, but laughed. “Do you want them back?”

 

“No, keep them. They suit you,” Jim said, smiling.

 

“I’m going to the shop to get something.”

 

Oswald had to pass some of the guys in order to get on the road that lead to the food stalls. As he’d done so many times in school, he tried to be invisible, but it seemed like the assholes were thirsty for some mocking.

 

“Where are you going, weirdo?” 

 

“To the kiddies’ pool, so he can reach the bottom.”

 

Laughter followed Oswald who ignored it, even if his ears were burning. Such tauntings were common in Oswald’s life, although less frequently lately. He was quite certain it was because of Jim ‒ being his friend meant that Oswald got some of the respect by proxy. Or at least people didn’t dare to bully Oswald in front of Jim, who had not shied away even from getting into fight for Oswald.

 

Sighing, Oswald got into the line for one of the stalls. He was thinking about an appropriate way to get his revenge on Harvey’s idiotic friends when someone tugged at his shirt from behind. It was Ivy, grinning at him.

 

“Hey, Ivy! Didn’t know you were coming to the pool today.”

 

“Yeah, I came with Selina and Bruce. Alfred brought us.”

 

Oswald got a soda for him and Jim and waited while Ivy bought her ice cream. They walked back to the lounge chairs, though Oswald didn’t think it was a good idea for the guys to see him hanging out with her, mockery starting again for certain. Luckily, it seemed the gang was busy; Oswald rolled his eyes when he saw that they were drinking beer.

 

At least Jim wasn’t there, but talking to the girls he’d been flirting with earlier. Oswald’s jealousy spiked up again, though, and he just walked over and effectively pushed the soda can against Jim, who looked at him in surprise. Oswald didn’t look back, though; he went to a shady area to finish his drink. He didn’t notice Jim and Ivy whispering conspiratorially. 

 

A few minutes later, Ivy ran up to Oswald, eyes wide with panic. “Oswald, come, I saw something in the water, it’s really bad!”

 

“Slow down, Ivy,” Oswald put his hands on her shoulders. “What happened?”

 

“There’s something in the water, it’s sooo scary!” Ivy said, almost hysterically.

 

Oswald got up, noticing that some of the guys, Jim included, were in the water on the other side of the pool. If something suspicious was in the water, it’d be better for them to get out. Ivy stopped by the edge, pointing towards the middle. Oswald couldn’t see anything, so he leaned in.

 

“Ivy, I can’t see-”

 

Oswald didn’t get to finish his sentence as Ivy pushed him in the pool. At first, he didn’t even know what was happening, though when he resurfaced he could hear Ivy’s giggle and the guffaws from further away. Before Oswald could tire himself thrashing about, strong arms encircled him, keeping him afloat.

 

“Great job, Ivy! We finally got him in the water,” Jim said and Oswald wanted to punch him so badly, but his grin was too mesmerising.

 

“Let me go, you jerk!” Oswald exclaimed, but started laughing as Jim’s fingers tickled his sides.

 

“Never!” Jim laughed even harder when Oswald started pounding his chest and arms with clenched fists.

 

“Jimbo, I want to talk to you when you two lovebirds are done,” Harvey said, twirling his goatee.

 

Both Jim and Oswald were very flustered as they let go of each other. By the time Oswald got out of the pool, Ivy had already disappeared. Dripping wet, Oswald went to get his towel and the change of clothes that he luckily brought with himself. His heart was still beating hard from being in Jim’s arms and then being caught by Harvey.

 

It was most probably a harmless joke to him, something bros would say. Harvey had already forgotten about it, as he seemed preoccupied with pointing at the girls not very subtly, most probably trying to get Jim to help in some seducing plan. Oswald hurried to cabins to change his wet clothes, then bought an ice cream to cheer himself up.

 

The next few hours were less horrible, though Oswald had to suffer through watching Harvey smooch some girl and then dance to  _ The Bad Touch _ , making obscene moves. His friends also pretended to push Oswald a few times in the pool, laughing when he glared at them. Perhaps the worst was watching the two girls rope Jim into singing Ken’s parts in Aqua’s  _ Barbie Girl _ .

 

Oswald was tied to Jim, though, so he had to wait until a certain time when he could ask Jim whether they could go home. He feared that his friend would be upset with the request, but Jim was alright with it, though he gave Oswald a searching look.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, just tired of all the people,” Oswald answered as truthfully as possible.

 

Jim nodded. He started gathering his stuff which attracted the attention of the other guys.

 

“Are you already leaving?”

 

“Yep, had enough fun for today.”

 

Oswald was grateful that Jim didn’t mention it was because of him that they were going home, but Bullock somehow managed to surmise it.

“Oh, does weirdo want to get home to his momma? Need a diaper change, Cobblepot?”

 

“Screw you!” Oswald said, flipping Harvey off then turning his back to the boy, resuming his packing.

 

Oswald only looked back when he heard a sound; Jim had his hand on Harvey’s shoulder, gripping it tight. “Back off, Harvey.”

 

He could see that Jim said something else, but Oswald could not hear what. Harvey looked at Jim with an inscrutable expression, then wrenched himself out from Jim’s grip. Oswald watched the exchange with wide eyes, then looked at Jim. His friend refused to say anything else, though, guiding Oswald towards the exit.

 

Once they were inside the car, Jim sighed. “Sorry about the whole thing. I know Harvey can be an ass when he’s around those people. Bad influence and all that.”

 

“It’s alright,” Oswald said, though he was grateful that Jim stood up for him.

 

Jim eyed him suspiciously. “You’re surprisingly calm about this. What did you do, Os?”

 

“Well, the guys will have a hard time finding their underwear, unless they look in the trash,” Oswald said as innocently as possible while putting on his seatbelt.

 

Jim laughed, playfully slapping Oswald’s arm. “You’re too much.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, the slight pain Oswald felt in his throat the previous evening turned into a very ugly sore throat. His whole body ached and he decided to stay in bed. His mother brought him tea and some toast as he’d asked, but he could barely swallow the tea. At first, he tried reading a comic, but his throat ache kept distracting him. Luckily, Ms. Kapelput soon returned from the drugstore with drops that eased the pain, and Oswald slipped into a dreamless sleep.

 

It was almost four in the afternoon when Oswald woke again and even though he didn’t feel like eating, his mother insisted that he eat the chicken soup she made only for him.

 

“You know it will make you feel better,” Gertrud crooned, lightly patting Oswald’s cheek.

 

Oswald sighed and took the tray with the soup. He had barely eaten two spoonfuls when someone rang the doorbell and his mother went to see who it was. She returned with Jim who looked rather concerned.

 

“I thought I’d ask if you wanted to go to Angelo’s and grab some ice cream, but your mom is telling me you’re not feeling well.”

 

“Yeah, no ice cream for me for a while,” Oswald whispered quietly, but smiled at Jim when he sat down on the bed.

 

Jim waited until Gertrud left them alone, then looked at his hand besides Oswald’s thigh, fingers drawing nervous circles on the blanket. “Is this because of yesterday? I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have egged Ivy on to push you in the water, just thought you’d have fun and-”

 

“Hey, stop worrying,” Oswald said, hitting Jim’s hand lightly with the spoon. “It was my fault, I ate ice cream after that plunge and then I drank a lot of cold soda when I got home.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts.” Oswald hit Jim with the spoon again.

 

“Ow! What did I get that for?” Jim complained, rubbing his hand.

 

“I saw you wanted to apologise again.”

 

Jim laughed. “What, you’re a psychic now?”

 

“No, just your best friend who knows you,” Oswald replied with a smile, looking down at his lap.

 

“Yeah, yeah… okay, I’ll let you eat your soup, but I’ll be back tomorrow with something that will cheer you up,” Jim said with a goofy smile.

 

“What’s that?” Oswald perked up, though he regarded Jim suspiciously.

 

“You’ll see tomorrow. Hope you feel better soon.” Jim patted Oswald’s shoulder before leaving. 

 

Oswald watched Jim’s retreating back, smiling despite his throat being on fire. He knew he could always count on Jim to make him feel better.

 

* * *

 

The next day, while Oswald wondered how he could convince his mom to order pizza for dinner that night, Jim came over. 

 

“As promised, your surprise,” Jim said, grinning and then blushing.

 

Oswald looked down at Jim’s extended hand, taking a cassette from his friend. It read ‘Oswald’s Mixtape’ and it made him smile instantly. “Thanks. Wanna come in?”

 

Jim nodded and he followed Oswald up the stairs to his rooms. “You alone?”

 

“Yeah, mom’s still at work. She called, said some costume emergency came up.”

 

“Oh, I see. Do you feel any better?”

 

“Yeah, a bit. Throat still hurts, but I’ll be fine,” Oswald muttered as he went to his cassette player.

 

“You want to listen to it now?”

 

Oswald laughed at the way Jim’s eyes widened. “Yeah, isn’t that why you made it? You said it would cheer me up.”

 

Jim ducked his head, picking up Oswald’s Game Boy and sitting on his desk. Oswald smiled when the familiar opening notes of _ I’ll Be There for You _ started playing. The song always made him feel happy. He sat on his bed and shot Jim a big smile, showing that he loved his first pick. 

 

Oswald picked up the comic he tried to read the previous day. He liked that he could hang out with Jim this way, just being in each other’s company without having to do something. The second song on the mixtape was Queen’s  _ You’re My Best Friend _ , which made Oswald giggle.

 

“Of course you had to include Queen.” Oswald peered at Jim from behind his comic.

 

“They are awesome,” Jim said, glancing at Oswald, his cheeks all flustered. “Besides the song…”

 

Oswald’s smile widened. Of course, he knew Jim and he were best friends, but sometimes Oswald doubted that, thinking that he didn’t deserve Jim’s friendship. That was why warmth invaded his chest every time Jim reassured him of their strong bond. 

 

When the third song started, Oswald was surprised a bit. It was  _ Lovefool _ , a song he often heard in the radio in the previous years. He quite liked it as it was catchy, but was caught off-guard, as he thought the theme of the mixtape was feel good songs, maybe something about friendship. It had to be just some nice tunes that Jim thought Oswald would like. 

 

“ _ Love me, love me, say that you love me _ .”

 

Oswald could feel Jim’s eyes on him as he sang to himself and he smiled, shifting his position so he could lie on his belly on the bed to read more comfortably. He wasn’t surprised when the next song was a Backstreet Boys one,  _ As Long As You Love Me _ .

 

Oswald bit his lip as he considered telling Jim that he didn’t know his friend was such a softie, but he decided against it. Jim always claimed he wasn’t good with words and Oswald had to admit that it was the truth, but Jim always expressed his feelings with everything he did. He was such a good person; he made Oswald a mixtape just because he had a slight cold. Who else would ever do that?

 

“What?” Jim asked, confused, when Oswald looked at him with a soft smile.

 

“Come here.” Oswald patted the bed beside himself, closing his book and turning around, so that he now lay on his back.

 

Jim sat on the edge of the bed, playing with the fringe of the duvet. Oswald watched him and when Jim looked at him, he plucked up his couraged. “Thank you. For everything.”

 

That wasn’t so difficult, and yet Oswald felt as if all the warm feelings from his rib cage have escaped and hid behind those words, peeking out and revealing his feelings with his tone alone. Jim nodded and he carefully lay down on the bed just as the song ended, the old bed squeaking as it accommodated two bodies now. Oswald turned his head when Jim did, and they smiled at each other, then quickly looked away when their cheeks started blushing.

 

This was far from their first time lying in a bed together, as they had had countless of sleepovers throughout the years, and yet Oswald knew something was different this time. Anticipation grew as the cassette rolled and rolled, until the first accords of the new song started playing. It wasn’t possible. Oswald was having trouble processing.  _ It’s just a random pick _ , he told himself, Jim didn’t want to say anything with  _ Truly Madly Deeply _

 

_ I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. _ _   
_ _ I'll be your hope I'll be your love, be everything that you need. _

 

However, it seemed that Jim had a different opinion. Oswald could feel his friend become still, holding his breath back, probably waiting for Oswald’s reaction. Closing his eyes, Oswald started humming the song quietly, hoping that it would disperse Jim’s nervousness. Oswald could feel Jim’s eyes on him, but he kept his eyes shut, smiling. Jim seemed to relax after a while and Oswald opened his eyes, briefly glancing at him.

 

Jim was flustered and was staring at the ceiling, but he did indeed look calmer, probably reassured by Oswald’s positive reaction. Suspecting that there would be no eye contact, Oswald turned his head, also looking at the ceiling and just focusing on the soft music and lyrics. He felt content to lie beside Jim and tried to remember every moment.

 

_ I want to live like this forever _ _   
_ _ Until the sky falls down on me. _

 

At first, Oswald thought he was imagining the gentle touch, as it lasted less than a second. Jim must have accidentally brushed his hand against Oswald’s. But then not much later, Oswald felt Jim’s pinkie finger slowly glide on the duvet, until the tip touched Oswald’s finger. In that moment, he was glad that he was lying in bed and he didn’t dare to move, not even when Jim glanced at his face.

 

Despite his madly beating heart, Oswald slid his finger closer, swallowing hard. Was it too risky? Would Jim snatch his hand away? However, nothing horrible happened. The warmth of the soft touch made Oswald have butterflies in his stomach and he was sure that his breathing turned uneven. God, he had probably memorised his ceiling by now, with all the random spots and lonesome mosquito in the corner.

 

Oswald risked a look at Jim and he was surprised to find that Jim was already turned towards him, searching his face. Despite wanting to glance away quickly, Oswald held eye contact with Jim, his breath stolen yet again by the crystal blue of Jim’s eyes and his rosy cheeks. He was so close, Oswald could easily reach out and caress his face. 

 

It looked like Jim was about to say something, but the sounds of a car pulling up on the driveway made the dreamy moment vanish.

 

Reluctantly, Jim took his hand away and sat up on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, I think I should go.”

 

_ Great timing, mom _ , Oswald thought to himself. “O-okay.”

 

Jim got up, stopping at the door. Oswald couldn’t take his eyes off his best friend as Jim smiled kindly. “Hope you recover soon.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

With a wave, Jim disappeared, leaving an even more deeply enamoured Oswald in his wake.

 

* * *

 

Oswald’s sore throat was gone in a few days and he was able to do all the things he wanted to in his last weeks of holiday. However, a lot of his free time was spent replaying the memory of lying in bed with Jim and listening to romantic songs. Oswald started doubting the veracity of this particular memory. Was he just high from the medicine? Was it just an accidental brush of hands and Oswald’s overeager mind had blown up its importance? Maybe it wasn’t romantic in nature, but it still felt intense, as a milestone in their friendship.

 

Jim had become slightly withdrawn, but Oswald knew the cause: his father’s death anniversary was looming over the family. It had been six years since Mr. Gordon had passed away. Although Oswald couldn’t say that he understood Jim’s situation completely ‒ his dad died before he was born ‒ he could sympathise. Mr. Gordon was a really nice man and Oswald still remembered the camping and fishing trips he took Jim and Oswald on, always making their summers unforgettable.

 

Luckily, Gertrud had an idea about how to distract the Gordons, even if only for a few hours.

 

“We’ll invite them over for lunch. We’ll set up the table in the garden and just have a nice time together. I’ll bake a Black Forest cake since that’s Mary’s favourite. Whenever you see Jim, tell him that we’re expecting them on Saturday.”

 

Oswald nodded. He hadn’t seen Jim in the afternoon, but he had a good idea of where his friend could be hiding. The one place where he could grieve in solitude. Jim didn’t even look up as Oswald walked towards him on the wooden bridge ‒ there was only one person who would know where to find him.

 

“Hey,” Oswald greeted him, Jim smiling up at him briefly, but his eyes returning to the smooth surface of the water.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jim nodded slowly. “Yeah, just… you know. Remembering dad.”

 

“I was thinking about that trip when we slept in that cabin and we heard the bear outside at night,” Oswald reminisced. “That was a really good one. Remember when we caught that huge fish, but your dad wasn’t there so we had to let it go, because we couldn’t pull it out of the water?”

 

“Yeah, and he didn’t believe us later,” Jim said, shaking his head with a smile. “If only we’d had your Polaroid with us.”

 

“We’d have wasted the film on silly photos,” Oswald laughed, remembering all the goofy pictures he had back home.

 

“True.”

 

Jim had become quiet again, eyes fixed on the water, no doubt miles away in his thoughts. 

 

“I just really miss him,” he said quietly after a while.

 

Oswald’s heart ached. He put his hand on Jim’s. “I know... I do too, he was the closest to a dad I’ve ever had.”

 

They held on to each other quietly. There was no need for other words.

 

* * *

 

Saturday had finally come, Mrs. Kapelput preparing everything with great care and even enlisting Oswald’s help in the kitchen, who wasn’t too happy about peeling vegetables so early in the day, but according to his mother the soup needed several hours to be ready. Preparing the cake was much more fun, though, as Oswald got to lick clean the bowl with the cream.

 

Every effort paid off, however, when they saw the smiles on Jim’s and his mom’s face.

 

“Oh, Gertrud, you shouldn’t have,” Jim’s mother said, obviously touched by her friend’s gesture. 

 

The table in the garden was laid with every dish they had been prepared, looking very festive in the small garden. It was a beautiful, sunny day and the walnut trees offered some shade. Jim smiled at Oswald as he sat down across him and Oswald leaned against his seat with a content sigh. This whole setting felt so familiar and comforting.

 

They talked about everything and enjoyed the good food, everyone digging in happily. Of course, they didn’t forget to remember Jim’s father.

 

“To Peter,” Gertrud said, raising her glass, the others following.

 

They were quiet for a while, but conversation started again as Gertrud cut the Black forest cake and handed everyone a slice. Jim was telling Oswald about the new episode of  _ The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air _ while their moms were talking about some acquaintance of theirs.

 

“Jim, didn’t you get two vouchers from Alicia?” Mrs. Gordon asked suddenly.

 

Alicia was Jim’s cousin and she was working at the cinema during the summer.

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“You should take Oswald out on Tuesday. Gertrud and I will go to your aunt’s Tupperware party,” Mrs. Gordon said, shooting Jim a telling glance, though Oswald was not sure what she was trying to imply. The way she said it, though, it sounded as if she was encouraging them to go on a date, and maybe that was also the reason why Jim turned red.

 

“Would you like to go?” Jim looked at Oswald, swallowing as he waited for the reply.

 

“Of course. I think  _ The Mummy _ is already showing, we did say we wanted to see that.”

 

Oswald didn’t know why Jim looked so relieved, but he smiled back at him. When he looked up, he noticed his mom and Mrs. Gordon watching them with pleased expressions, then they quickly changed the subject of their discussion. Oswald shook it off as he got up and dragged Jim inside to play some Super Mario.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday evening rolled in with a lot of excitement for Oswald. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like it was going to be a special occasion. Even his mother, who was sat by her vanity applying eyeshadow, told him to put on a nice shirt,  _ maybe the purple one because it just suited him so well _ . 

 

Oswald sighed, but did as she told him. Not much later, there was a knock at the door and Oswald let Jim in. His friend was wearing a tight white shirt and Oswald was yet again tempted to touch Jim’s arms. Instead, he led him in the kitchen, as it was still early to leave. Jim took an apple from the basket in the middle of the table, biting into it with gusto. Oswald was so fascinated that he didn’t see his mother coming into the kitchen.

 

“Alright, boys, I’m going over to Mary. You’re taking the car, right?”

 

Jim nodded.

 

“Drive safely.”

 

“Of course, Mrs. Kapelput,” Jim said affably. 

 

Gertrud patted his shoulder, then she turned towards Oswald. “Du solltest etwas zu ihm sagen.” (You should tell him something.)

 

Oswald was taken aback ‒ his mom rarely used German in front of others. “Was meinst du damit?” (What do you mean?) He glanced at Jim, hoping that his friend didn’t mind that he was excluded from the conversation.

 

“Dass du ihn magst… Das ist nichts wofür du dich schämen musst.” (That you like him… it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.)

 

“Aber Mama!” (But mom!) Oswald exclaimed, trying to keep his voice low. God, this was too much. He could feel Jim’s curious eyes on him and he hoped his blush wasn’t too conspicuous.

 

“Er mag mich nicht. Nicht so, (He doesn’t like me. Not that way.)” Oswald explained quickly, and it was painful to swallow with the lump in his throat.

 

Gertrud cradled his face. “Glaub mich, er mag dich. (Believe me, he does.)”

At Oswald’s miserable expression, Gertrud sighed and stopped pestering him. Taking her purse, she waved goodbye. “Alright, boys, take care.”

 

Oswald shook his head after his mom left.

 

“What was that about?” Jim asked, mouth full of apple.

 

“Just mom trying to embarrass me. Nothing to worry about,” Oswald said, waving a hand. “Maybe we should go, there might be a lot of people.”

 

Jim watched him for a moment before he shrugged, then got up. Oswald breathed with relief as they left the house.

 

* * *

 

On the drive to the cinema, Jim was uncharacteristically quiet and Oswald looked at him with worry.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah… just thinking,” Jim replied distractedly.

 

Once they got there, though, Jim seemed a bit less pensive. Once he exchanged the vouchers for tickets, he lead Oswald away from the crowd. Jim touched Oswald’s shoulder, gazing deeply into his eyes.

 

“Would you like something? Popcorn? Candies? Something to drink?”

 

“Uh… popcorn would be nice,” Oswald said a little dumbly, overwhelmed by Jim’s intense gaze.

 

“I’ll get it.”

 

After Jim returned, they went and took their seats, munching on the popcorn during the previews. Their fingers touched from time to time and Oswald blushed, not looking at his friend. Oswald was so mad at himself; it had often happened before, but it never caused such a reaction. Clearly, Jim was not affected, so he shouldn’t be either. 

 

Once the movie started, Oswald gave it his whole attention, though. He’d always been interested in Ancient Egypt and the movie also had many funny scenes, making Oswald giggle. However, there were also some scary parts. When the sand particles started gathering in a scary shape of a gaping mouth and the music grew to a crescendo, Oswald sank in his seat and let out a quiet whine. He wasn’t really a fan of horror movies.

 

“Here,” Jim leaned in and whispered, but Oswald didn’t understand what he meant.

 

Seeing Oswald’s confusion, Jim reached out and took Oswald’s hand in his. “If it’s too scary, you can hold onto me.”

 

Oswald blinked a few times, flustered. Was Jim making fun of him? “I’m alright, thanks.”

 

However, in the light of the screen Oswald could see a hurt look pass Jim’s face. He withdrew his hand and seemed dismal throughout the rest of the movie. Oswald wasn’t sure what happened, but he was resolute not to let Jim leave in low spirits.

 

“Did you like the movie?” Oswald asked as the lights came on and people started scrambling to get out.

 

“Yeah, yeah, it was good,” Jim said, rather distracted. Oswald frowned; even during the funny scenes Jim barely smiled. Something was not right.

 

They left through the back exit as their car was parked in a nearby street. It was already dark, but the air was mild. The speakers outside were playing Scatman - Oswald loved it, though he knew Jim wasn’t a big fan. It was worth a shot, even if it made him look stupid. Whatever to see Jim smile again.

 

“Ski-ba-bop-ba-dop-bop,” Oswald sang while dancing, or well, trying to dance in the empty street. It was more like flailing his arms and swaying, bending his knees.

 

“Oswald?” Jim looked at him confused for a second, then started laughing when Oswald walked to him, still making silly moves.

 

“Come on, Jim, you gotta sing it too,” Oswald said, bumping his shoulder against Jim’s.

 

“I’m the Scatman,” they managed to shout before dissolving into laughter.

 

Warmth spread in Oswald’s chest at the sight of Jim’s smile - he really couldn’t stand seeing his friend sad.

 

“I don’t feel like going back, not yet,” Jim said, looking at Oswald. “Bridge?”

 

“You don’t think our moms got home by now?” Oswald asked, biting his lower lip.

 

“Nah, you know how much they like to chit chat at those parties.”

 

“Let’s go then.”

 

Jim smiled before starting up the engine.

 

* * *

 

Oswald had hoped that the cheer from the car would follow them on the bridge as well, but Jim seemed to have fallen back into his pensive state. In the dim light of the surrounding streetlamps, Oswald could see the worry etched on his friend’s face. Though usually Jim would come forward and tell Oswald about it, maybe this time he needed a bit of help.

 

“You’re very quiet today,” Oswald said, hoping that there was no accusation in his voice.

 

“Am I?”

 

“Yes. Even at the cinema… is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

 

Jim sighed. “I know, I just…”

 

“Is it something I did? I told you you can punch sense into me if I ever do something stupid,” Oswald said, getting nervous.

 

“No, not at all, you’re fine,” Jim rushed to assure Oswald, looking at him with wide eyes. “Just, there’s been something that I meant to tell you. I, I  _ like  _ you, Oswald. In that way. I thought you’d have understood it in the cinema when I tried to hold your hand.” 

 

_ Jim tried to hold my hand? _ Oswald couldn’t even move, he was so shocked.

 

“Sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut,” Jim said, expression and voice so full of panic that Oswald was afraid he’d run away. He quickly wrapped his fingers around Jim’s wrist.

 

“You really like me?” Oswald’s heart was thumping loudly while he waited for a reply.

 

“Yes,” Jim whispered, eyes refusing to look up. “Sorry, I-”

 

“I like you too. A lot, actually,” Oswald confessed, blushing at his words. He never thought he’d ever say them.

 

He noticed then that he had a death grip on Jim’s hand and he released it, instead letting his palm slide over Jim’s hand. 

 

“I never said anything, because I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way.”

 

Jim’s eyes seemed ablaze when he turned towards Oswald. “You’re the kindest, most intelligent and beautiful person I know.”

 

“ _ Jim _ .” Oswald leaned against Jim’s shoulder, flustered. When he dared to peek up, his friend was gazing at him with the softest smile.

 

Oswald couldn’t wait anymore, he lunged forward, his lips crashing a bit awkwardly against Jim’s who made a surprised noise. Oswald was sure that Jim would change his mind after his first terrible attempt, but Jim just put his hand on Oswald’s nape, and looked him in the eye.

 

“Little thief, stealing the first kiss like that,” Jim whispered amusedly, bringing his best friend closer again and pressing his lips slowly, sweetly against Oswald’s.

 

The best feeling in the world, Oswald decided, was Jim smiling against his lips.

 

“Come closer, I want to kiss you again,” Jim murmured.

 

Oswald didn’t think too much about it: he sat on Jim’s lap, straddling him. “Close enough?” he asked with a cheeky smile.

 

Jim took Oswald’s face in his hands, lips perfectly slotting against his friend’s, licking into his mouth gently. Oswald couldn’t help a moan escape, wholly melting when the tip of Jim’s tongue touched his.

 

Oswald put his arms around Jim’s neck, looking at him with a great sense of pride. Jim looked so besotted, eyes wide and sparkling, lips red and very kissable. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you tried to be romantic at the cinema. I thought you were making fun of me for being a scaredy cat.”

 

Jim snorted. “Only you would think that.”

 

“Well, you never said… I saw you flirt with those girls at the pool!” Oswald huffed, closing his eyes when Jim tightened his embrace.

 

“That wasn’t serious. I haven’t even talked to them since.” Jim looked down, smiling. “All I could think about lately is you. It only hit me after you left for Germany that I might feel more than friendship.”

 

Oswald beamed. “Same with me. I missed you every day.”

 

Jim smiled, his right thumb tracing Oswald’s lower lip before they met again in a kiss. It started slow, Oswald enjoying the thrill as he could finally make out with his best friend. His hands fell to Jim’s strong shoulders and then to his biceps, lips parting as he felt the hard muscles underneath the light material of the shirt.

 

“I can touch you now,” Oswald whispered, the tips of his fingers slipping underneath Jim’s sleeves, stroking his hot skin.

 

“I’m starting to think that you only like me because of my muscles,” Jim said with false indignation. 

 

Oswald grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

 

Jim made sure to find out the real reason by tickling Oswald and attacking him with neck kisses until he surrendered. “Alright, alright, I liked you for a very long time, but when I came back, you were suddenly this supermodel and I just needed to touch your arms.”

 

“That’s better,” Jim said, kissing Oswald’s pout away. “Come on, we should probably go before our moms call the police.”

 

* * *

 

Oswald was pretty sure that after that night he was just constantly dreaming. His mom and Ms. Gordon weren’t in the least surprised by the new development ‒ in fact, it seemed as if they were relieved that it had finally happened.

 

Since they only had a few days until school started again, Jim came over, bringing some new comics with him. He was hiding behind one as Oswald put on the mixtape he got from his  _ boyfriend  _ (the butterflies still fluttered in his stomach only thinking about the word). 

 

Smiling, Oswald cuddled up to Jim who put his arm around him and they read together, commenting on the newest adventures of Batman.

 

When the romantic songs came on, Oswald just had to tease Jim. “I always knew you were secretly sappy.”

 

“Shut up,” Jim grumbled, but Oswald could see that his mouth was curved upward.

 

“I love it, though.”

 

Jim shook his head, then leaned down and kissed the tip of Oswald’s nose.

 

Oswald snuggled closer to Jim and promised himself that since it was his favourite thing in the world, he would make his best friend smile every day.


End file.
